


A Day in the Life - A. Ham

by Show_Stopper



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-16
Updated: 2015-12-16
Packaged: 2018-05-07 01:28:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,389
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5438432
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Show_Stopper/pseuds/Show_Stopper
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A one shot of one day in the live of nineteen year-old Alexander Hamilton.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Day in the Life - A. Ham

**Author's Note:**

> The site wouldn't let me italics the thoughts so it s a little annoying but that's okay!

A Day in the Life

The snow crunched softly beneath his old boots. The sensation of cold air whipped around him and froze him close to the bone. It's the first real winter he's ever experienced. Living in the Caribbean, there was no need for winter coats and furs, no need to bundle up or have a fire burning day and night. As he approached the brick and mortar building the sun just nearly peaked over the horizon, "Morning" he breathed slowly. He looked at the dark purple sky seeing the clouds, that left the light layer of snow the night before, skirting away. As he looked toward the almost frozen street he noticed that life for the day was about to start. Better get to work, he thought. As he opened the door to the library, he was hit with a kind, warm air and the smell of books. Alexander loved being surrounded by knowledge. As he set up shop at one of the large desks a little older of a gentleman walked by. Dark raven hair and a face that seemed like it was in a permanent scowl, Burr was circulating two specific bookshelves. Alexander looked back to his work. 

The clock struck ten in the church across the way. There were many more people here, and Alexander was having trouble focusing. His stomach started to growl. He thought about leaving his things but decided against it. He started packing up; class would be at eleven. Almost an hour to eat-that means he could go down to the little bakery on the corner near home and maybe converse with Hercules. He bundled back up into his coat and headed off to the bakery. All while walking, Alexander was constantly thinking about ways to improve finances. He wasn't paying attention when a British officer ran into his shoulder. "You gotta pay a fine for that,” he said in a thick burly accent. 

"Why for?" the blue eyed colonist asked. 

"Fur me coat gettin' dirty. The missus won't be 'appy to 'ear that it's got colonist crap on it." 

"Well, why don't you just go back to your happy island, and leave us, colonists, alone? Your ‘missus’ might be ‘appier’ with that!" He retorted with such force that the shop owner who was sweeping the snow away from his door stopped. 

"What did ya say, scum?" The redcoats face turned the color of his uniform as he approached Alex closer. 

The shop owner stepped in between the two men, then turning to Alex, "There you are my boy! I was wondering where you went, I need you to tell me if the library still needs their books bound and have you brought me any?” Turning briefly to the officer, he shrugged his shoulders and said, “Children." Then quickly dragging Alex away from the brutish man. 

"What were you thinking? You know that they would give anything to make your life a living hell or worse they would kill you.” 

"Thank you sir for your help but I can handle myself." Alexander said shortly. The older man sighed and let Alex go, "Just be smart son. I've seen you go in and out of that library everyday. You have more power with that pen than most people." Alex looked at the older man, nodded then went on to the bakery. Begrudgingly thinking about how the man who didn't know him. Calling him his son; what a disgrace. 

At the bakery, he asked for a cup of tea and a croissant. He sat at one of the little tables provided for waiting as he looked out the window. He saw an older man, maybe in his forties, yelling at an officer, the officer punching the man in the face, and the fight that ensued. Alex stood up but was stopped short when the officer brought out a pistol. The man pleaded for his life, and Alex had to look away from the massacre. When he looked up again, a small girl and her mother, presumably, were grieving over the father. The child couldn't be more than the age of five. Alex had to leave the bakery. He received his food and left. 

He went home, home being Hercules Mulligan's house. Alex heard the bells on the tower say that it was thirty past ten. He closed his eyes and silently thanked the shop owner from earlier. He sat down in the sitting room-his cup of tea was cold. He didn't try to drink it. He took one bite of his croissant and then put it on the table. He couldn't bear it. People dying and fighting, for what? He thought. 

Freedom. 

He grabbed his quill and ink, took out several pages and started writing. Hercules came down the stairs shortly after. He silently watched the nineteen-year-old genius. Hamilton's reddish-blonde hair and younger features made him seem like he was maybe thirteen or fourteen. The mouth and brain on this man were outrageous. He was probably writing about some injustices that needed to be corrected. There was a knock at the door. 

"I've got it," says Mulligan. Alexander didn't even turn his head. Hercules opened the door just as the bells struck forty-five. Alex stood up, fixed his writings, waved them to dry and cleaned up his quill quickly. He left before the lady knocking could even enter the through the door. 

Class was normal. Normal and uneventful. Alex wanted a challenge while learning, and this just wasn’t doing it for him. He learned information quicker than the teachers could get it out. When he got out of class, it was past five in the afternoon. His walk was slowed by the gusting wind. He wrapped his arms around himself and shivered slightly. He could see clouds rolling in. The library door was locked. Odd, thought Alexander. He walked around the building a few times, then decided that it was best to get some substance. He dared not go to the bakery, for fear of brutish British officer. Instead, he went around to a rather small café that was a few blocks up. He ordered a soup and sat down, took out his writings and continued them. The pub across the street was starting to get busy at the time the café owner told Alexander that the store was closing. He gathered his things and tried for the library again, the door being unlocked now. He went inside and sat at the same desk as before and began a new set of writing. Burr was seated two desks away and watched the young man struggle to keep his eyes open. By this time, the clock in the church has struck eleven in the evening. Burr stood up and gathered his things, leaving the hardworking Alexander alone in the library. 

Alexander looked up to see if he still had some form of notes from an earlier class. He heard the bells strike thirty. Looking around for anyone, he noticed the fire was just a kindling and the surrounding area was completely empty. Not even Burr was there. Alexander then cleaned up his things and headed home. It was snowing-not heavily, but noticeably. When he opened the door to the house, he was met with great warmth from the fire. He took off his shoes and coats and walked up the stairs slowly. He lit a candle to walk to his room, set down his things, then decided to get his writings out and begin again. 

A voice quietly piped up behind him, "What are you doing?" 

Alex didn't even turn his head, knowing the voice, "Working." 

"But you've been working all day, come here, come take a rest" the voice said tiredly. 

Alex turned toward the bed where the voice was coming from, "But you've invaded my space again,” he said with the lightest of smiles. 

John Laurens got out of the bed and sauntered to Alexander. "But you like it when I invade your spot." He grinned, leaning into Hamilton's chair. 

After a few minutes of silent staring, "Come to bed now, we have so much to talk about" Laurens said. 

Alex looked back at his work then back to Laurens and finally sighed, ”You win this one." Then blowing out the candle, the smoke rose with both of the mens’ smiles.


End file.
